This year the United Nations Human Rights Council witnessed around three million refugees at Libya’s coast among which five hundred souls were sacrificed during the battle.
The chosen text is a short video depicting the horrors and suffering of the immigrants fleeing for their very own homelands in order to survive. The syllabus presently being taught is the related to the ongoing global issues and the present refugee crisis is the biggest humanitarian crisis we have witnessed since the world war two. The following written task is a speech given by a refugee, who struggles her way through and finds her second home in Germany, and is priveliged to now share her journey with the world and become the voice of citizen of nowhere. The primary audince of the speech is every single emepthatic human that shares the pain, evry mother that has lost her child in this war against terrosim be it a victim or a soldier .
This speech not only completes the purpose of spreading awareness but also condemns those who have turned an ignorant eye regarding the issue. WRITTEN TASK A house: not just a roof on your head or a shelter from the wild, but a palace where the entire family cherishes a warm Sunday brunch together or celebrates occasions with loved ones. A place where everyone has some childhood memory of decorating it for some festival or perhaps even being grounded. As common as this schema is it comes as a surprise that only 30 percent pf the worlds population has own a home. The very diffrence in the perception of this very home amongst people of different economic strata ……*confused what to add here* , for if you go ask a child who resides here in new York with economically well settled parents it would be a place where he goes after he school and live happily with his parents, ask a beggar he will tell you where he sleeps for the night , maybe its under the bridge or on a bench of some park. But ask a refugee what there home was like and be prepared to hear dreadful stories of strangers barging in your ‘home’ and shooting your hardworking father straight in the head and physically abusing your mother and sister while you were stuck in the fear of being the next victim and when the icy hands of death would actually came as a warm retreat.
We would rather risk our life fleeing the country than even try to live in it. The blood of my new born and husband was splattered all across the for walls of my ‘home’. My twelve year old daughter was raped . This is all I could see from between the hinges of the door, where I was scared and preparing myself to be tortured for when they find me I was going to be their next subject of misguided anger, communal hatred and vengeance to prove the other political leader wrong. Witnessing all of this with my very own eyes, I had lost all my will to live and was ready for whatever was coming next because death, more than punishment was a sweet release from all of this and the only possibility for me to reunite with my family ever again. But I wasn’t lucky enough.
I was found, not by the heavy bribed men of an angry politician but a group of people who were as distort and troubled as me but with a hope for a better life. They were the ones who gave me power to live again and lead a whole new life and so I left Syria. Not for myself but for those still captivated in that hell-hole. I left to fight for their freedom and not let the lives of millions who died, including my family go to waste.
And so the life changing journey began. We were illegally smuggled on boats by people who are called ‘people smugglers’. we were dumped into small fisherman boats like commodities. we were on that boat for ten days straight with almost no food and water, and as it weren’t enough that the boat was carrying people twice its capacity we also had a pregnant lady on board.
My husband was a government official who used to handle all the files of the office. This did not bring much money at home and I had to give every single penny that was earnt by hard work to the smugglers just to get me out of the country. They people on the boat were my family now. Finally after a long journey of forty-five days on the boat we reached the coast of Germany.
In the due course of the journey not only did we fight a hurricane but also delivered a baby. This baby had no home to go to and we were officially the citizen of nowhere. Within twenty-four hours of being blessed with her , we were striped away from that tiny ray of happiness due to no medical assistance, absence of food, water and clothing there wasn’t even much we that we could do to save that little soul. We finally reached the borders of this beautiful country called Germany. We were welcomed with open arms but it was also the first time we were called refugees, those who left their homes in order to pursue a better life. I was scared.
I remember the first night here, about an year ago it was the three of us hurdled together sleeping in a tent in one of the camps. Although I was scared , I was sure that my family is now finally safe and I won’t have to hear screams of people in the middle of the night or face a gun on my head. The real eye opener for me to genuinely fight this war for the people was when the last words of my fellow companion on the boat was ” I know for sure that heaven is real for I just witnessed hell” these words ringing in my head was the main reason that kept me going while picking up other peoples dirty dishes , sweeping the floors and struggling to communicate with others for neither did I know how to speak in german or English and still having to eat leftovers from the restaurant I waitressed in and still sleeping in the tent which I recived upon my arrival inthe country. As they say , the tiny raindrops are the ones that fill the oceans, slowly but steadily I learned how to converse not only inn English but also in german and rented my own house. The journey from that rock bottom till here was slow , vigiors and hard, but it was totally worth it .
All of this feels surreal, but every night before I sleep the scene of my entire family being butchered and sacrified like goats during eid just to fulfill one mans greed for power flashes right in front of my eyes. The Morning papers headlines read stories of innocent civilians like you and me getting killed and hundreds more of the the same situations that II faced keeps me motivated to keep fighting till the headlines do not change. War is nothing but orginised murders and it is time we do something about this and fulfill the purpose for which millions of Syrians gave up their life for. Give the citizens of nowhere a place to safely call HOME. For all the crime they committed was being born there.
